by P. C. Cast
“Sure, I’m busy, but I’m never too busy for my friends.”
“I can’t just leave Chicago, you know. There’s too much to do up there. The city’s just starting to relax enough to let a few human art students attend classes at the House of Night. I gotta go back and be sure everything runs smoothly.”
“What if you go back temporarily. Just long enough to train your replacement. I really could use you here. The depot tunnels house the only House of Night for red fledglings. You’d be a better High Priestess to them than me.”
“Really?” Stevie Rae’s blue eyes sparkled happily.
“Really,” I said. “What with Stark and Kramisha added to the staff here, I have a few extra priestesses. I’m sure one of them would love to check out Chicago.”
“What about Damien? New York can’t be any easier to integrate than Chicago.”
“Damien finished the yearly professor evaluations at his House of Night early,” I said.
“’Course he did,” Stevie Rae said with a grin.
“Yeah, he’s super organized. He gushed about one young High Priestess in particular. I think I remember that her name is Monique. Anyway, in his evaluation he went on and on about how skillful she is at brainstorming creative answers to dead-end problems. Perhaps Damien should groom her to take his place in New York.” And then return to T-Town and help me organize the administrative mess I’ve buried myself under.
“Z, you’re gonna make three people real happy this holiday!”
Feeling lighthearted, I linked my arm with my BFF and, like giggling preteens, we skipped to catch up with the rest of our group.
Everyone was waiting for us at the rocky ridge that looked down on the walled, concealed grotto prison.
“All right, does everyone remember their parts?” I asked.
Aphrodite, Shaunee, Shaylin, and Stevie Rae all nodded. I met Damien’s sad gaze. “Honey, I need you to stay up here with Stark and Rephaim.”
“But I really wanted to be part of the circle, even if I can’t call air,” he spoke quietly, miserably.
“I don’t think it’s safe. Aphrodite’s vision took place down there.” I pointed to the place beside the grotto wall where I’d decided to cast the circle and set the new protection spell. “You were killed, Damien.”
“But by Jack, and that’s impossible,” he insisted.
“Seriously, Damien? You’re going to argue about what’s possible and what isn’t after everything that happened last year?” Aphrodite said, though she spoke kindly. “I don’t understand the vision Nyx sent me. I do understand I was in a body that died. And that body was holding your yellow candle. It’s not safe for you down there. Hell, I don’t even like the fact that you’re going to be up here. My vote was for you to wait back at the House of Night with Grandma Redbird and Nicole.”
Aphrodite’s gaze met mine. I’d vetoed her vote and allowed Damien to come with us. I just couldn’t bear the misery in Damien’s eyes. He personified air and had been part of my circle since the first time I’d cast one so long ago. I couldn’t leave him behind.
“I won’t run. I’ll close the circle if something crazy happens. That wouldn’t change whether Damien was here watching or not,” I told her firmly.
“What does that mean?” Damien asked.
“Nothing!” Aphrodite, Darius, Stark, and I all said together. Yeah, the four of us had decided to leave some of the details out of the vision she retold to Damien. He didn’t need to know his breaking the circle had let the tide of zombie things loose on Tulsa. I’d been forewarned. My running wouldn’t happen until after my circle was closed. I could say that for sure. But if there was even the slightest chance something to do with Jack might happen, none of us believed Damien would be in any shape to make the right decision—the safe decision.
“It means that whatever happens tonight we’re all going to be clear-headed,” I said. “That’s why Stark and Rephaim are going to wait up here with you, Damien.”
“To make sure I don’t do something idiotic,” Damien said sadly.
“No. To make sure the circle stays safe,” Stark said—only semilying.
“Hey, I’d rather be down there with Stevie Rae,” Rephaim said. “But I don’t want to distract her.”
“Damien, we have a perfect view up here. If anything goes wonky, we’ll know it and we can warn Z and the circle. I can cover them easily from up here.” He patted the full quiver of arrows strapped to his side.
“Yeah, Stark and I are glad for another set of eyes to watch with us,” Rephaim added.
“And I’ll go down to ground level with the circle,” Darius said. “If you see anything—yell. I’ll get them out.”
“Sounds good.” I turned to Shaylin, taking an instant to admire her adult vampyre tattoo. Hokusai’s Great Wave looked amazing in scarlet. The tattoo was layered, with wave upon wave, giving it the appropriate effect of having an aura. “Shaylin, could you please check each of the five of us out before we cast the circle and set the spell? Our intentions have to be solid. I need to know for sure that we’re all ready.”
“Of course, High Priestess,” she said formally. Then Shaylin studied each of my friends. It didn’t take long. Her skill at reading auras had definitely gotten quicker during the past year. “We all look good. And I do mean me, too. I checked myself out in a mirror before we left the House of Night.” Shaylin paused, sending me a questioning look. I nodded slightly, and she continued. “Damien, your aura is usually like a summer sky—all bright and billowy with stuff that looks like cumulus clouds swirling in it. But right now your sky colors look bruised and thunderstormish.”
“What does that mean?” he asked, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant.
“Nothing awful,” she assured him. “Just that you’re stretching yourself thin. Even if Aphrodite hadn’t had that vision I would be recommending to Zoey that you sit this circle out. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry for telling the truth. It’s okay.” Damien made an effort to smile, which was only a so-so success. “I’ll stay up here with Stark. I do feel tired.”
“I’m going to take care of that when we’re done here. I have an idea,” I said. “An outstanding idea.”
“Great. That’s never gone wrong before,” Aphrodite muttered.
“Be nice,” I said.
“It’s hard to be nice and honest,” she said.
I ignored her.
“Okay, do all of you have your props?”
My four friends nodded. I lifted my hand and felt for the redbird feather Grandma had woven into my hair just before we left. “All right, remember our intention. It’s simple and clear—protection against Neferet. That’s it. That and calling your element are the only things you need to be thinking about down there. Got it?”
“Got it!” they echoed.
I led them down the wide, winding stone stairs that emptied beside the new stone wall surrounding the grotto.
“Oh, for shit’s sake. Look at that. Talk about morons.” Aphrodite pointed at the wall and we all looked closer. Tucked into small cracks and natural niches in the stone were offerings. I saw everything from coins to crystals and beads, and even several votive candles—not lit at the moment.
“Those need to go,” I said. “After we cast the spell and close the circle, let’s throw all of that crap away. And for a while I’m going to have the Sons of Erebus send a Warrior to stand guard twenty-four-seven.”
“Noted, High Priestess,” Darius said. “Shifts will begin at dawn.”
“The last thing we need is for Neferet to feed off idiotic human worship,” Aphrodite said.
I nodded agreement, and thanked Darius, but shoved the general public’s idiocy from my mind. “Focus, everyone. Remember our intent.” Then I moved several yards from the wall to stand in the center of a nice flat section of ground. “All right,
circle around me.”
My friends found their directions easily: air–east, fire–south, water–west, earth–north. All circled around me, personifying spirit, in the center. I carefully put down the tall purple ritual candle at my feet. Spirit was always the last element called to the circle, and the first to close the circle. I pulled the box of extra-long wood matches from where I’d snuggled it inside my awesome black bomber jacket (that had wild feminist printed in bold white letters on the back—I love me some Wild Fang!). I closed my eyes and drew three long, deep breaths—in and out, in and out, in and out, while I focused my thoughts on my intent.
Protection against Neferet.
When I felt ready, I opened my eyes and walked directly to where Aphrodite stood at the east side of the circle. I’d written the calling of the elements and the spell itself with a focus on protection. My words and my voice mirrored the power that I was determined to invoke.
“Oh, winds of storm, I call for you. Cast your mighty blessing upon the magick I work here. Air, come forth!” I touched my match to Aphrodite’s yellow candle. It lit instantly, and Aphrodite’s hair lifted, whirling in a gust of wind so wild that had she not covered her candle, it would have gone out. “Air, what is your offering for this spell of protection?”
Aphrodite pulled the ritual dagger from somewhere inside the fur trimmed cape she’d swathed herself in. “I offer an athame. May it cut through anything that stands in the way of our spellwork tonight.”
I bowed formally to her before taking the athame and tucking it into a belt loop on my jeans. Then I made my way clockwise to the south and fire.
“Oh, fire of lightning, storm bringer, magick worker I call for you. Cast your mighty blessing upon the magick I work here. Fire, come forth!”
I didn’t need to touch a match to Shaunee’s red candle. It blazed into life on its own in a burst of heat so great it made me flinch. “Fire, what is your offering for this spell of protection?”
Shaunee lifted the hand not holding her ritual candle and gave me a perfect pyramid made of crystal. I blinked in surprise.
Shaunee’s grin was fierce, making her facial tattoos, which were twin phoenixes rising from flames, seem to glow from her internal flame. “I offer a tetrahedron—the physical manifestation of the elements that create fire. It is my wish that it burns away anything that stands in the way of our spellwork tonight. I found it in one of the old trophy cases. Perfect, right?”
“Perfect,” I agreed. I bowed and took it. The pyramid rested, cool and smooth, in the palm of my hand before I put it in the pocket of my jacket. I moved to the west, and Shaylin’s personification of water.
“Oh, drowning torrents of storm-wrapped tornado rain, I call for you. Cast your mighty blessing upon the magick I work here. Water, come forth!”
It took Shaylin’s candle an instant longer than necessary to light, but when it finally did I held my breath as, for just a moment, I swear I felt as if I’d been transported to the middle of the ocean. Shaylin giggled gleefully.
“Water, what is your offering for this spell of protection?”
Shaylin handed me the fist-sized stone, water-etched with a heart. “I offer proof of my element’s power. It is my wish that it flood anything that stands in the way of our spellwork tonight.”
I bowed to Shaylin and water, and put the rock in my other pocket. It felt heavy and solid—and I thought how perfect it was, as well.
Moving to the top of the circle, I stood before Stevie Rae, who dimpled at me.
“Oh, earth—solid, mighty survivor of every storm ever created, I call for you. Cast your mighty blessing upon the magick I work here. Earth, come forth!”
Stevie Rae’s green candle lit easily and I was instantly transported to a mighty mountain range. I felt it all around me, and knew earth would support our protection spell with unparalleled power.
“Earth, what is your offering for this spell of protection?”
“I offer this rowan. It’s a magickal gateway as well as a protector. It is my wish that it serves as a doorway for our spellwork tonight.”
Clutching a wand, Stevie Rae lifted her hand. It suddenly reminded me of a scene from Harry Potter, which made me smile as I bowed to my bestie and took the slender, graceful offering. I turned and walked to the center of our circle, kneeling beside my purple spirit candle to complete its opening. “Oh, strong and powerful, all-knowing spirit, I call for you. Cast your mighty blessing upon the magick I work here. Spirit, come forth and complete my circle!”
An exquisitely familiar feeling swallowed me, reminding me how much I’d missed circling. Quickly, I made a silent promise to myself that I wasn’t going to let work keep me from the pleasure of circle casting. Then I reached up and released the braid that held my redbird feather.
“I offer this feather—the spirit of my people—free and strong. It is my wish that it fills our circle and focuses our intent for our spellwork tonight.”
I stood then, and let my eyes follow the glowing silver thread that bound my friends, the personification of the elements, together in a perfect circle of power, shining with intent. Feeling full, happy, powerful, I began emptying my pockets and arranging the items carefully on the soft, snow-sprinkled ground.
I worked backwards. First I held out the rowan wand. Speaking slowly, carefully, I began casting the spell of protection. I’d decided that there hadn’t been time for creating the rhyme and meter that usually went into the words of a spell. Instead, I focused on intention and power—lots of power.
“I begin with earth’s offering, the rowan. I return it to earth, blessed by the elements, and infused with power. May it grow strong and long—so mighty that it can withstand any negative influence.” I pressed the raw end of the wand into the ground, planting it firmly. Then I took Shaylin’s rock and placed it on the west side of the rowan twig, saying, “Next comes water. I place it beside the rowan where it can nurture its growth through life-giving waters, like blood through our bodies.” My hand found the pyramid, which I placed on the opposite side of the twig. “I move to the manifestation of fire, symbolized by the four sides of this pyramid. May its heat warm the rowan, even when the cold breath of Darkness threatens to stunt or destroy it.” Finally, I held the athame high. The light from our joined circle glinted off its blade, and its fierce beauty made me smile. “And now, air! With this athame I will mark a pentacle within our circle, to create a power-filled pentagram, infused with the might of the elements and our combined intent.” I moved deliberately because in order for a pentacle to manifest a circled pentagram fully, it must be drawn by a single line, with the spirit point up.
I’d drawn four of the five lines when it happened.
“I’m sorry, I’m going to insist you leave. This area of the park is closed for a private event.”
Darius’ voice—deep and firm—broke through my concentration. I glanced up, squinting as I tried to look through the glowing thread of power that held our circle together. There was a small group of people. I could see that one of them was carrying a camera, and that they were following a woman, who was striding quickly toward our circle.
“This is a public park. It cannot be closed for private events.” I was struck by the familiarity of the voice, though my mind, which was still trying to focus on the spell I was almost done casting, felt fuzzy—slow.
I heard Aphrodite gasp just before the woman spoke again.
“Just as I suspected! The vampyres are trafficking with Satan! Look at that unholy circle! And the vampyre in the middle—she’s drawing Satan’s mark, the pentagram! Fox News, are you getting this? When I am elected mayor of Tulsa I will put an end to this kind of dangerous blasphemy against our good Christian community.”
“Oh, for shit’s sake, Mother. Go away!” Aphrodite shouted.
11
Zoey
I blame myself for what happened next. The tho
ught was only in my mind for an instant, but I should have controlled it. I should have ignored everything outside my circle and held firm to my intent. An older High Priestess would have. A wiser High Priestess would have.
I’m not old or wise, and I messed up.
If a zombie apocalypse caused Aphrodite’s mom to be eaten, I think I’d consider it #winning. As my mind registered the thought, I drew the last line of the pentacle—and something happened. Something terrible. My grip on the athame slipped midstroke. My hand slid awkwardly down the handle of the ritualistic yet razor-sharp dagger—cutting a deep gash across my palm.
From my position on my knees, I stared at my hand. The athame was so sharp that I didn’t register any pain at first. All I felt was a rush of heat and warmth as blood dripped from my palm, spattering the rowan twig and the ground in the center of the sacred pentagram.
Then time seemed to fast-forward, and everything happened with blinding speed.
A great inrush of power knocked me from my knees. I rolled so hard I would have broken the circle had Shaunee’s strong arms not caught me.
“Z, are you okay?” She stared at my bloody hand as I scrambled to my feet.
“I—I’m not sure.” I pressed my hand against my waist. I could feel the wetness soaking through my shirt, and I played a child’s game with myself. If I don’t look at it, it can’t be that bad. “I feel weird. Dizzy. Tired. I don’t know what’s—”
“Oh, Goddess, no!”
Aphrodite’s cry had me staggering around to face the center of the circle. The rowan was no longer a twig. It had shot up to form a fully grown tree. But this wasn’t like any rowan I’d ever seen—and I’d seen a lot, both on the Isle of Skye and in the Goddess’ Grove in the Other World. This tree’s delicate, frond-like leaves weren’t the verdant, healthy green of a young tree. Nor were they the vibrant red of a rowan in the fall. This tree’s leaves were twisted and long, curled like arthritic fingers, and they were the dark rust of old blood. Its branches were misshapen, and not the magickal way healthy rowans bend and shape themselves, often twining with another rowan or, as I often saw in the Goddess Grove, a mystical hawthorn. This tree’s limbs moved restlessly, wrapping around and around itself in a bizarre, serpentine fashion. The trunk of the tree began to quiver, expand, pulse—as if it was breathing—then with a great tearing sound, the rowan broke open and a fountain of blood geysered from beneath it.
